Untold chronicles of power

Chapter hundred fourteen

The early hours of the Friday before the Conclave dawned with a sense of foreboding for Sophia, the weight of the impending event bearing down on her like a heavy cloak.

As she stirred from her slumber in the dim light of her spacious room, an eerie feeling washed over her, chilling her to the bone despite the warmth of her covers.

Sophia had tried to reassure herself countless times that everything would be okay, that she would emerge from the Conclave unscathed, but now, in the quiet stillness of the early morning, doubt gnawed at her insides like a hungry beast.

With a heavy heart, Sophia rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the gentle flutter of her unborn child's kicks against her palm.

A bittersweet smile crossed her lips as she laughed softly, the sound mingling with the soft sobs that escaped her throat.

Unable to bear the suffocating confines of her room any longer, Sophia slipped out of bed and made her way to the giant window overlooking the sprawling estate grounds.

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